I’ve been wondering about this mowed trail under the powerlines in south Keene for many years now. Since the land is near the local college I was sure they must have made the trail, but why? I decided to finally find out more about it last Saturday.
Since I grew up in this area I thought the trail might lead to the Ashuelot River, which is right behind those trees on the other side of the powerline cut.
But before I did anything I made sure all the power lines were still in place as they should be. A few years ago a terrible accident happened here when a college maintenance worker came out here to see what birds he might find. He didn’t notice that one of the lines had fallen and he was electrocuted. The electric company had neglected to inspect and repair their towers, so one of the tower cross members that the big insulators hang from had simply broken off due to rot and the wire fell to the ground. And I used to play under these things when I was a boy.
There were huge numbers of goldenrod here.
And quite a few of the deep purple New England asters that I like so much.
The dogwood leaves had already turned to their beautiful maroon fall color.
As I thought it would the trail turned into the woods.
I was happy to see that my boyhood playground was now a wildlife management area. That means this land will be protected.
A game trail led into the woods so I followed it.
The trail became what looked like an otter slide, and I found myself standing about ten feet above what was left of the river. It is definitely lower than I’ve ever seen it and I’m not sure what will happen if we don’t get some rain soon. Wells are going dry all over the state.
A marker told me that I was 1.56 miles from somewhere. Or maybe I had 1.56 miles to go. Either way it didn’t matter.
Sumacs are changing into their beautiful fall red.
Ferns stood as tall as I did.
A woodland sunflower was curling into itself, I’m guessing from lack of moisture. I’ve never seen the woods look so dry.
A backwater had nearly dried up, and that was hard to see. What struck me as most odd about the scene was the lack of animal tracks. There are large animals like deer out here and they need to drink but they hadn’t been here, so I wondered if this was more of that river mud that it is so easy to sink in to. I wasn’t going to try. I learned a lot out here when I was a boy and one of the most important lessons was not to do foolish things like play in wet river mud when I was alone.
And then I came to the college soccer fields. I can remember when they were built and a couple of college students walking the trail looked like they wanted to call me Methuselah when I told them that.
A silver maple showed me how it got its name. Normally, as the old tale says, when you see the silvery undersides of these leaves it is going to rain. On this day though, all we saw was a 20 MPH wind.
It really is amazing what the college has carved out of what was essentially wilderness.
There were lots of flowers to see; mostly asters and goldenrods.
Virgin’s bower (Clematis virginiana,) our native clematis, often has deep purple leaves at this time of year.
Virgin’s bower also has fluffy seed heads and I think the seed heads are as interesting as the flowers. This is our most common native clematis and can be seen on roadsides draped over shrubs or climbing high up in the trees. Many bird species eat the seeds and goldfinches line their nests with the soft, feathery seed coverings. They also give the plant another common name: Old Man’s Beard.
It was nice to see so many of these dark colored asters. This color isn’t common here but they’re my favorite.
It was amazing to think that, when I was a boy living barely a 5 minute walk from here, none of this existed. The power lines were there and what grew under them was cut fairly regularly, but the rest of the area; the college fields, the paths, the wildlife management area, none of it was here. What was here is what you see above; a forest, and it was a wonderful, magical place to grow up in. I spent most of my free time in these woods and on the railroad track that ran through them, and being here again was like going home. I was thankful for the mowed trails that made it so easy to get out here and I hope the college students will have as much fun here as I had. It’s a very special place.
Nature, even in the act of satisfying anticipation, often provides a surprise. ~Alfred North Whitehead
Thanks for stopping in.
Hi Alan, another great post. It’s been a few years. Can you let me know when the fiddleheads start popping? I haven’t picked in a few years. Let me know if you are available to join us on a foray, we will cook something. Make it an event. I have expanded my mushroom knowledge considerably. Bsafe Bwell…Micky
Thanks Michael, I’ll do that. I haven’t seen any yet!
Looks as though you had a grand day out.
I did indeed!
What a lovely place and a magical post to read, Allen. I am so pleased that part of the forest you knew as a boy has been designated a wildlife management area and it hasn’t all been tamed. We have quicksand here in Britain as well, though in East Anglia it is known as ‘the soft’.
Thank you Clare. I don’t know if what we have is true quicksand but that’s what we as kids called it. It was certainly soft enough to sink into, so “the soft” makes perfect sense.
A wonderful place to grow up. Thank you especially for the goldenrod and aster group pictures. So beautiful. Years ago I was making a rose garden.out of abandoned pasture Tucked behind a large old apple tree was a truly gorgeous patch of white, purple and blue asters mixed with goldenrod. I stood there with my shovel and garden fork and decided that some things couldn’t be improved on and left it right where it was. I never regretted it.
You’re welcome. I had to laugh at your comment. Here I was building gardens all over the place and one day the most beautiful thing I had ever seen stopped me right in my tracks. It was an old field full of dandelions and purple violets, all blooming together.
I am enjoying watching my native New England transition into autumn through your lens! The large stand of goldenrod is particularly beautiful.
That was a tragic story about the maintenance worker being electrocuted. That is surprising that the power company did not know the line was down. Usually that sort of thing causes a disruption in the flow and triggers some sort of notification.
If I remember correctly I think the maintenance worker happened upon it immediately after the line fell. It started a small fire and he started walking over to it but he was electrocuted before he could get there. Apparently there were other people in the area who saw what happened.
I was very intrigued by that 1.56 mile marker. I cannot imagine what it might signify. In spite of your lack of rain, things still looked pretty green on your walk. Is that the case in real life as well as in photographs?
I can’t guess what the marker means either but since it is so close to a sports complex it might be there for runners. I wouldn’t think cross country runners would care about 1.56 miles though. It’s a pittance.
Things are indeed green but it’s a pale, wilted green that’s hard to describe. Most plants are wilting badly with no vigor and I saw quite a few today that have dried up completely. Flowers are much smaller than they usually are as well. I think everything is trying to survive on heavy dew.
We have got a bit of wilting now but that has come from cold mornings not drought.
Good to check out the changes in an area you’ve been around since childhood. Glad you had a good exploration! I have very fond memories of three distinct wild areas in town within a quarter mile of my childhood home (Tampa, Florida). And, of course, we were allowed to go explore at will (1950s) and parents worried not at all! Those were the days, huh?
Those sure were the days, Ginny. I lived in St, Petersburg when the skyway bridge fell, so I can guess what you saw when you went exploring. The woods there were like a jungle!
As you remind us, these little pockets close to town can be rewarding investigations. We don’t always have to drive miles to enjoy the great outdoors.
Thank you Jnana. Yes, even your own yard can be a treasure trove of discoveries.
Thank you for saying what I should have remembered to say in this post.
My biggest takeaway from this post is dangerous river mud! If I understand correctly, an animal, even a big one, would have a hard time getting out? That’s important information! Truly sorry to hear of the drought conditions. Let’s hope the skies open soon and that the forests stay safe in the meantime.
Thank you Karen. When we were kids we used to call it quicksand and though I’ve never heard of an animal getting caught in it that doesn’t mean much because they sense danger far more easily than we do. What I do know is that it was easy stuff to lose your shoes in if you sank into it. Before you knew it you could be up to your shins in sticky, sucking mud, so we kids stayed away from it.
Yes, everyone I know is hoping for rain, even if it comes on a weekend!
“fences make good neighbors” or “don’t fence me in” ?
Funny you should mention that Lucy. When the first soccer fields were built there they had no fencing, but when many of their soccer balls ended up floating down the river they decided to put them in. I’ve always wondered haw many balls made it all the way to the Atlantic.
Love it when a seemingly “ordinary” place reveals it’s magic, You are suffering from the same lack of rain as central Ohio. A recent trip to northern Michigan indicated no such problem..
This dryness is really getting to be a problem but it’s good to hear that at least part of the country is getting rain.
So good to share your childhood memories, what a beautiful place.
Thank you Susan. It really is beautiful out there. Lots and lots of birds!